


Ner Stewjoni'ad

by Shelaar (JonathanAnubian)



Series: Setting Souls Aflame [2]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Biology, Cissexism, Dark, Forced Bonding, Forced Marriage, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Intersex, M/M, Mandalorian Culture (Star Wars), Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Partial Mind Control, Possessive Behavior, Stewjoni Culture (Star Wars), Taung Ancestry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:33:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28260033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JonathanAnubian/pseuds/Shelaar
Summary: What if Jango decided to claim Obi-wan for himself and cement his place as Mand'alor before Alpha 17 could enact his plan?
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Setting Souls Aflame [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2070174
Comments: 30
Kudos: 306





	Ner Stewjoni'ad

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a lot darker than Cuun Tracinya, you have been warned.

The moment he entered the room Jango knew that something in his life had gone horribly, horribly, sideways. There in the middle of his suite was a jetii with coppery locks, darkened from the perpetual rain, and vivid eyes full of intelligence. The jetii, no, the Stewjoni'ad, smiled at him politely and gave a small nod of his head in greeting. Deep in his chest he felt his old anger rising up and had to breathe through the seething rage that filled him.

But just as quickly that anger was turning into a searing heat that was flooding his veins. Apparently Manda themselves had other ideas about what Jango might do to this Stewjoni'ad besides violence.

“Jango, welcome back. Was your trip productive?” Taun We, the only decent Kaminiise in his opinion, asked in that eerily soothing tone of hers.

“Fairly.” He grit out, eyes never leaving the redhead standing so primly before him.

“This is Jedi Master Obi-wan Kenobi. He’s come to check on our progress.” Jango bit back a snort. This had been one of the jetii who had been tracking him on Coruscant, he was sure.

“Your clones are very impressive, you must be very proud.” There was a dark look in his eyes, one of disapproval. The fact that he hadn’t fallen to his knees already was both confusing and aggravating. The Manda had recognized one of its own children and yet the man didn’t realize just who it was he was talking to.

Jango would have to rectify that.

“I’m just a simple man, trying to make my way in the galaxy. Just like everybody else.” The jetii frowned and opened his mouth to speak, Jango didn’t let him. “Taun We, could you take Boba to Davin’s office? The Master Jedi and I have much to speak about and this could run long. There are also things not meant for his ears.” That was a lie. He tried never to keep anything from his son. “Boba, slana’ti Taun We. Mhi enteyor jorhaa'ir.” _‘Boba, go with Taun We. We must talk.’_ His son frowned at the order but didn’t argue, instead looking up at the Kaminii.

“If you are certain... Master Jedi?” The Stewjoni'ad watched him for a moment before smiling and nodding politely to the Kaminii.

“I don’t mind, and I would not wish to bother Ser Fett’s son with our discussion.” Jango had grit his teeth not to correct the man in front of the Kaminii.

The moment the two of them were out of the suite the redhead squared his shoulders, eyes blazing. It looked like he was ready for a fight.

“Well then, are you going to come with me willingly to face the courts or-” Jango grinned triumphantly.

“Kneel, Stewjoni’ad, and accept your place.” The man’s mouth fell open in shock before his entire body shuddered and he fell to his knees, so suddenly it looked as if it had hurt. Huh. Jango had met a couple of Stewjoni’ade before and they were always guarded. But this one, this jetii, didn’t have the same shielding.

The Ka'ra was watching over him it seemed.

“I-what? How did you-” He was a wordy bastard, but not for long.

“Ne’johaa!” _‘Shut up!’_ He commanded and watched in fascination as the order was immediately followed, the jetii giving off waves of confusion.

Jaster had known that he was prime material for the next Mand’alor and had taught him as much as he could about the blood of the Taung and their command over the Stewjoni’ade. While Jaster’s mate had died in an attack from the Kyr’tsad before Jango had been adopted there had been other Stewjoni’ade in the Haat’ade. They had even volunteered when Jaster asked them to help demonstrate.

After Jaster was killed by Tor, betrayed by Montross, the Manda had seen fit to choose him as the next Mand’alor. 

Jango had decades of practice being in command since then.

The one thing Jango had never done, had been putting off as long as possible, was securing his position as Mand’alor by choosing a mate from the Stewjoni’ade. After his capture by the jetiise and his stint as a slave he hadn’t felt worthy enough to return to his people, let alone to secure his reign by choosing a mate. What if they all saw him as a fake and rejected him?

Yet here and now there was a Stewjoni’ad kneeling before him silently. As a jetii he knew the man couldn’t know anything about Stewjon, Manda was secretive about their children after all. So it meant he wasn't a fake. If he was a fake the man would have been able to shake off the command easily enough.

“I’m going to ask you some questions, jetii. You will answer them honestly and promptly. Nod if you understand.” The man nodded stiffly. “Jate.” _‘Good.’_ Pulling up a chair he sat on the edge of it, smirking at the heated look he was getting.

This was going to be fun.

“You were the one sent after me on Coruscant, weren’t you? Tracked me all the way here?” He would start out easy and see just how much he could push the redhead.

“Yes Alor.” _‘Sir.’_ Jango blinked.

“Where did you learn Mando’a?” He certainly couldn’t have learned it from the jetiise.

“On Mandalore.” Simple, to the point, and only answering what Jango had asked.

Clever.

“When, how, and why did you learn Mando’a?” That made the man’s eyes narrow slightly.

“When I was sixteen I was taught by the Duchess of Mandalore during a year long mission to keep her out of Kyr’tsad’s clutches. It was both comforting for her and useful whenever I had to go undercover. I was also curious and I… like the culture and the language.” His face was flushed slightly with strain and probably embarrassment, it was a little distracting.

Wait, what? No… what!?

“A Stewjoni’ad went undercover on Manda’yaim for a year and no one snapped you up?” Sixteen was a perfectly marriageable age and even then, the Kyr’tsad didn’t care about anything as decent as age when choosing their mates. They would have forced him even if he was fourteen, Jango had even heard horror stories ablout how they took mates as young as twelve.

“I beg your pardon?” Oh Ka’ra, he had no idea… fuck, how the hell had he been left alone this long? It couldn’t just be because he was a jetii, could it?

“You’re a Stewjoni’ad, red hair is a dead giveaway. I’m surprised no one proposed.” The man stiffened but didn’t reply.

“Oh, someone did propose… and you said no?” The man clenched his jaw and Jango frowned. “Did someone propose and did you say no?” If Jango had been any other Mando'ad it would have been difficult for the jetii to deny them. Only the Mand'alor had absolute control over the Stewjoni'ade.

“She didn’t propose, but I would have stayed had she asked me to.” There was an odd sensation in the back of his mind that was reminiscent of a loth-cat hissing.

She. It had to have been the dar'manda Duchess, especially with how the Manda was reacting. “She wouldn’t have made a good mate for you anyway.” The man lifted his chin, eyes defiant. “Someone without a soul couldn’t keep a Stewjoni’ad happy.” He scoffed.

“Why is my being from Stewjon so important?”

“Besides the obvious?” Jango asked with an amused smirk. The man nodded curtly. “Because of your ancestry.” The man frowned. “Stewjon is a child of Manda, graced with the blood of warrior kings.” Something much like recognition flickered in his eyes.

“Jango Fett… you’re the Mand’alor.” Jango lounged back in his chair with a pleased rumble.

“Gar Mand’alor.” _'Your Sole Ruler.'_ The man shook his head.

“I haven’t sworn to the Resol’nare, I’m not-” Jango leaned forward, a glint in his eyes.

“You’re a Stewjoni’ad, you have Manda in your soul at birth.” The man shook his head again as if to deny it.

“Enough, I have more questions.” The redhead swallowed whatever he was about to say, shoulders tensing slightly. Jango stood from his chair and moved closer, reaching down to run his hand through the soft looking locks of copper hair. The man jerked back but didn’t fight him. Stewjoni'ade could not lift their hand to the Mand'alor, it was against their very nature. “Tell me, Stewjoni’ad, did you sleep with the Duchess?” The man’s mouth opened and closed for a moment before his body shook.

“Y-yes, once…” Hm, not what he’d wanted to hear but he had suspected it.

“So you’re not a virgin then?” Even his ears turned red.

“I have… some experience, yes.” Jango’s fingers tightened in his hair and he tugged hard, earning a small gasp of pain.

“What kind of experience?” Beneath his hand he could feel the man trembling as he tried to defy the orders given. For someone untrained he certainly had a strong will. That just made Jango all the more interested. “What kind of experiences have you had with sex, Stewjoni’ad?” He growled, pushing more power into the command.

The redhead looked up at him, eyes burning cold. It sent a thrill of excitement down his spine.

“I don’t know how this is relevant?” Came the strained choking words as he forced them past his lips. Jango snarled.

“Because I believe it’s relevant, answer!”

“Gah-I, I’ve slept with both men and women, and although I don’t have one preference over the other I have found that I am… am m-more comfortable being on the receiving end.” The man closed his eyes at took a deep gulp of air. “I’ve given and received oral pleasure, been tied up, and have some experience with sado-masochism.” At this point Jango wasn’t sure whether or not the redhead was about to spontaneously combust he was so red in the face.

“Both as a man and as a woman? Or just as a man?” The man’s eyes opened wide, confusion clear.

“As… what?” Fierfek, the jetiise hadn’t even told him about his own kriffing biology!

“Stewjoni’ade make good pleasure slaves because they can change sex at will, or through the use of certain drugs. You’re also compatible with pretty much any species.” It seemed he hadn’t even known he could become a woman, so there was no doubt he hadn’t experienced sex as a woman. Which meant Jango would be her first after the Change.

There was fear in the jetii's eyes now but Jango didn’t care.

He was perfect.

A Stewjoni'ad who was also a jetii, one the Manda was practically screaming at him to claim. It would be just another thing he could take away from the jetiise after what they did to his family on Galidraan.

“You will repeat after me.” It wasn’t needed in this era, the age of the conquerors was long gone and the Stewjoni’ade were more than happy to help a Mand’alor find a compatible mate, but he knew the man wouldn’t say the vows unless ordered.

“Mhi solus tome.” _'We are one when we're together.'_ The man struggled as Jango knelt in front of him, hand still firmly gripping his hair as he pressed their foreheads together.

“Mh-mhi solus t-tome.” Jango hummed in approval.

“Mhi solus dar’tome.” _'We are one when we're apart.'_ The Stewjoni’ad closed their eyes tightly but didn’t try to pull away.

“Mhi solus d-dar’tome.” His voice was hoarse now, getting weaker.

“Mhi me’dinui an.” _'We will share all.'_ And he would share all, as long as his mate behaved.

“Mhi me’dinui an.” He whispered.

“Mhi ba’juri verde.” _'We will raise warriors.'_ And they would. They would raise warriors together- Jango would make sure of it.

“Mhi b-ba’juri verde.” Tears slid down his mate’s cheeks and Jango brushed them away with his thumb.

“Shh, udesii ner riduur. You’ll get used to your new life soon. Just one last thing.” _'Shh, calm down my mate.'_ Reaching outward he felt Manda’s power flow through him and shoved past the flimsy barriers between himself and his new mate. Hands came up and gripped onto him as the redhead hissed in pain. Jango ignored it as he tore through every single link the man had with others. No one was allowed into his mate’s mind but him!

When he was finished and the link between Mand’alor and Be’alor had been firmly established he watched the glazed look on his mate’s face as he no doubt experienced the genetic memories all Stewjoni’ade had locked up in their pretty little heads. Leaning forward he capture his mate’s lips in a heated kiss.

“Come, ner riduur.” Standing he tugged on the man’s hand, helping him off the floor. It wasn’t necessary for Mando’ade to consummate a marriage, not even the Mand’alor. It was enough to have a mental bond with ones mate. But Jango had a fire beneath his skin, an itch that wouldn’t go away.

He was going to prove to his mate that he was a true Mand’alor. Teaching him how to be a proper Stewjoni’ad could come later.

**Author's Note:**

> If there is enough interest I will do a second chapter from Obi-wan's perspective.


End file.
